


Impossible Girl

by thatgirlinredandgold



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlinredandgold/pseuds/thatgirlinredandgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is a lonely god, a prize that the king of Hell seems determined to acquire. But how does one catch the Doctor? It's simple actually; you take the one thing in the universe he would do anything to protect. You steal his impossible girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again friends, it's been awhile. I've neglected a lot of my stories on here due to any number of excuses; lack of inspiration, motivation, time. But no more. I've decided to make my return to fanfiction with a story that's been brewing in my head for quite some time, and I'm excited to get started. I've never attempted Supernatural fanfiction before, so we'll see how it goes. If for any reason you feel I'm not doing these characters justice and I am making them OOC, please don't hesitate to tell me. I'm trying my hardest to make this as realistic as possible. For context this story is set post Name of the Doctor for Clara and mid season 6 for the Winchesters.

She woke suddenly with a sharp intake of breath, two large green eyes staring back at her. Disorientated and confused, she wanted nothing more than to scream. Where was she? What had happened? And who was this man that was tugging frantically at the ropes wrapped tightly around her wrists. Her head was pounding, making clear thought almost impossible. She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a barely audible groan. It hurt. Everything hurt and she had no idea why.

"You'll be fine, I promise. We'll get you out of here." The man told her, his voice much lower than she had anticipated.

Her brown eyes were round with a deep and all consuming fear. "I don't know where I am." She whispered, almost pleading with the man, but for what she didn't know. "Help me, please. I don't know where I am." The words seemed to stir something inside her chest, but the feeling was gone as soon as it had come.

"We'll get you out of here." He repeated and finally the ropes fell free from her wrists. "Can you walk?" He looked her up and down, examining the extent of her injuries. "Right. Stupid question."

"Dean, we have to go. Now." A second man had appeared from behind the chair she had been strapped to, hand grasping a bloody blade as if it were a lifeline.

The first man wasted no time in picking up her petite frame and carrying her bridal style over to the newcomer, and through the doorway she saw them. Several bodies lying on the ground, blood pooling around each person. They were dead. She may have been utterly confused of her whereabouts, her head pounding out a constant rhythm, but she was still able to put two and two together. The blood soaked knife, the bodies; these men were murderers. Suddenly those two green eyes didn't seem to belong to her savior, but to her captor, and she wanted to scream. Oh how she wanted to scream, but her voice would not cooperate. Panic returned as her heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst from her chest, her head pounded worse than ever, and then, whether from pain or shock, her world faded to black once more.

...

This time she awoke slowly, blinking away rapidly at the harsh light. The first thing she noticed was that the pounding in her head had now dulled to nothing more than a small ache. But with that pain gone she was able to notice in just how bad of shape she was. Glancing down at her body she saw all the cuts and bruises that marred her skin. It looked as though someone had made an attempt to nurse her wounds, she was able to see a few bandages wrapped crudely around the places emitting the worst of the pain.

"Good morning sleeping beauty." The voice shocked her out of her silent analysis of her physical state. "Sleep well?"

She turned her head towards the voice, ignoring the soreness in her neck. " Who are you?"

He smiled at her, though the gesture didn't quite meet his eyes. "Dean Winchester. And seeing as I saved you from that hell hole, I think you owe me an introduction as well."

"I'm-um..." She racked her brain for an answer that seemed just out of reach.

"You remember, don't you?"

"I-I'm not exactly sure. It's-" She seemed to finally grasp at the word. "It's Clara! My name is Clara Oswald."

"Clara Oswald." Dean repeated the words, testing them out. "Well, Clara Oswald, that gets one question out of the way."

"I'm sorry, there's not much more I can say. My mind is sort of... wibbly wobbly."

"Wibbly wobbly?"

The word seemed to draw something from the very far recesses of her mind. Her head protested by sending out a sharp pain. She pressed the heel of her palm into her forehead, pushing hard.

Dean's eyes widened in concern. "Hey, hey, are you okay?"

"It's my head." She whispered, shutting her eyes against the pain.

"You should get some more sleep then." He moved to help her back into a more comfortable position, but she stopped him.

"I'm fine." It was no sooner than those words had left her mouth that she realized she was in fact not fine. A third person had entered the room and was carrying some greasy looking bag with a restaurant's name blazoned boldly on the front. He noticed Clara almost immediately, setting the bag down on a table next to the window and walking quickly over.

"You're awake!" She only stared at him, silent and wide eyed. It was starting to come back to her. The knife, the bodies, and the man standing over her, the same man that had stood over a dozen bloody corpses. She wanted to scream.

"Stay away from me." Somehow, Clara managed to get this out in the firmest voice she could muster. Both men looked taken aback, and Dean opened his mouth to protest. "Both of you, stay back! I remember now, what you did."

"What we did?" Dean said, incredulous. " What we did was save your life. They were torturing you in there."

Clara sat up in her bed, keeping both men in her sight. "You killed those people. There had to have been at least a dozen of them, and you just killed them. Innocent people-"

Sam interrupted her. "I think you're just misunderstanding-"

Dean cut him off, staring at Clara straight in her eyes. "They were demons Clara. Demons that not only tortured you, but killed who knows how many other people."

She stared at him incredulously. "Demons? Do you think I'm mad?"

Sam looked at her, pity evident in his expression, not wanting to tarnish what little innocence she still had after being tortured so ruthlessly. But keeping her in the dark could never be an option. Crowley needed her for a reason, and that reason would keep every creepy, nasty creature searching for her. Letting her rest in her ignorance would be like killing her. Sam glanced at Dean, trying to decide how to proceed. Finally, he settled on the only works he could find. "Of course not."

Dean, however, was not satisfied with Sam's carefully chosen words. "We're not lying to you. Everything that goes bump in the night; ghosts, vampires, demons, they're all real and they're all going to be coming after you. We're the best hope you have and you have to trust us. Me and Sam, we'll get you through this, keep you safe. You decide to leave and you'll be back in that torture chamber before the day is out."

Her eyes were wide with fear, but she remained speechless. She wanted to say something, tell them that it wasn't her who was mad, it was them. How could she believe them? But then again, how could she believe anything at the moment. She barely remembered her own name. Her mind was so messed up that anything, however ridiculous it sounded, could be the honest to God's truth. "Okay."

Sam attempted a comforting smile. "You trust us?"

"No, but what choice do I have? I don't remember anything. If I left, where would I go?"

Dean patter her knee, drawing a gasp of pain from Clara. "Good enough, how are you feeling?"

Both Sam and Clara looked at him incredulously. "Dean, look at her. How do you think she's feeling?"

He gave Clara a quick once over, her short frame bruised and battered as if it had been tossed around as needlessly as a rag doll. Every move she made on the motel bed looked strained and uncomfortable. She looked, to put it simply, like hell. "Right, um, stupid question."

Clara cracked the barest hint of a smile. "That's okay, I think I'll survive. Thanks to you, I suppose. I'm not sure what happened back there, which is probably for the best, but I'd probably be much worse off if it weren't for you two. So thanks."

"That's our job- part of the family business." Dean said, glancing over at his brother as if sharing some private joke.

The moment was cut short when a loud growl emanated from Clara's stomach, reminding her of the fact that she had no idea of the last time that she ate. Sam seemed to notice too, "Oh! Almost forgot, I picked up some food for us." He held up the greasy bag to emphasize his point, causing Clara to wrinkle her nose in an act of carefully masked disgust.

"Thanks, um..."

"Sam Winchester."

For the briefest of moments, the spark that had once caused an ancient, mad, and lonely god to whisk her away on countless adventures returned to Clara Oswald's eyes. She felt a glimmer of hope despite the hopeless situation. It was a return to her old self, the beginning of a long and tedious healing process. She may not have a single clue to her past or the reason that she had been granted this jarring twist of fate, but sitting with these two brothers, eating fast food, and beginning a new adventure, she realized that the aching in her head was starting to subside. For a moment, the memory of a strange man with a blue box did not fight to be at the forefront of her mind. This was page one of a new story, and on it was written two words.

"Thanks Sam."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be starting school again next week and therefore don't know when I'll be able to get the next chapter up. But that being said, reviews and feedback certainly speed up the writing process. Thank you so much for reading!


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